


More Than Enough

by ikkiM



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little ficlet in which Jaime is mistaken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Enough

Jaime stormed into his tent at Pennytree. Brienne sat waiting for him on his bed, her armor dented and scratched, her hair filthy, her arm in a splint, a bandage on her cheek.

Jaime lit into her before the tent flap could close. "There you are. I thought you’d left me on the battlefield, wench,” his tone accusatory. He looked her over. “What is that you're wearing? Is that the armor I gave you? You look terrible. Trying to remind me how I sent you out alone into the world to fulfill my stupid oath?"

She gaped at him. He pulled off his sword belt and flung off his cloak, anger radiating from every movement.

"Is this a fresh hell? I’m certain there are more than seven now.” He threw his head back to stare at the top of his tent. “You’ve shown me more hells than I could ever imagine and you’ll keep showing me more.” He ran his hand through his hair before turning back to her. “I come in from a skirmish, blood on the boil and there you sit looking hurt and injured and miserable and that is not the way I want you in my bed. You never give me what I want, wench, do you? If I want you armored on the battlefield, you're naked and glistening. If I want you warm and willing, you're in armor. If I want to end this siege, you’re standing there holding that sword like a shield and reminding me of my thrice-damned oath. But this,” he waved his hand at her, “this sad, pathetic look, this is different. It still stirs my cock."

He began jerking off his armor, letting it fall to the floor. He caught the stunned expression on her face.

"Oh, don't think looking at me with that stupid expression on your ugly cow face, mouth hung open is going to make me want you any less.” He stopped disrobing for a moment to study her. “What is that bandage on your cheek? That's new.” He unlaced his tunic. “No matter. You'll soon be standing before me, water sluicing off your freckled skin as glorious as you were in Harrenhal. That's when I fell in love with you, you know." He pulled off one boot and tossed it across the room.

She blinked.

"Oh, don't pretend you didn't know,” he mocked her ignorance. “Of course you knew. That's why you're here, isn't it? You're here with me every day and every night. I can't get rid of you, wench," he growled. He tilted his head and dropped his voice. "Not as if I would want to though." He moved to stand before her. "I should never have let you leave King's Landing, Brienne."

She tilted her head back to look at him.

"I should have taken that order releasing me from the Kingsguard and found you, dragged you to a septon and married you then, Stark girls and oaths be damned. I should have taken you back to Casterly Rock." He caught her eyes and smiled. "Or Tarth,” he mused. “We could have gone to Tarth. Lived in a fishing hut. We'd have at least one babe by now. I would have liked to have seen you heavy with my child." His eyes clouded.

A silent tear rolled down her cheek.

“There’s no crying allowed.” His hand reached out and stopped just short of touching her hair. He knelt down before her as if in prayer. "I'd have you every night in my arms, wench. My cock in your cunt. My mouth on your skin. Listening to your cries of pleasure. Hearing you call out my name." He hung his head, tears in his voice. "But you never say anything. For my sins, I’ve been punished to see you everywhere but never hear your voice, never feel your touch.” He raised his head. His eyes bore into hers, his voice full of venom and despair. “You stupid, ugly, stubborn wench, I will never forgive you for dying.”

Brienne drew in a deep breath and placed her hand on his cheek. "Jaime." It was barely a whisper. It was more than enough.

\-------------------------

Author's Note: If this fic made you sad, please look up the note before the fic. Then it should make you happy.

 

PSST. She can't touch him or speak if she's not there. I wouldn't torture the fandom that way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments. I have a lot of fanfiction in my head. Most of it is crap. Some of it is less crappy than others. This one, in particular, had a giant pile of crappy plot that I deleted. Every once in a while, I'll let something I don't hate see the light of day. I'm glad to know people enjoyed it. Or if not enjoyed, at least felt something.
> 
> Thank you.


End file.
